Venom
by Sivan IXXX
Summary: Some cases are best left cold. Post Season 3. Sherlock/Watson/FemOC. This story won't be updated until my other stories are complete. HIATUS.


**A/N: After watching season 3 (finally), I felt inspired. Enjoy.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own any brand names or any of the original characters created by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, so please don't sue. And don't plagiairize my story or characters in any way.**

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**A Chance Meeting**

Once John's daughter, Moira, was born, Sherlock found that most of his days were spent on nonsensical cases about everything _but_ what was relevant or worth his time.

A terrible breakup, a possible serial adulterer, stolen candy-all that which was so ridiculous and petty, that he told Mrs. Hudson not to allow anyone upstairs for the rest of the day.

With nothing better to do, he searched the blog for past cases that were far more interesting than watching the wallpaper change color. He had to admit, there was nothing like living in the moment, being in the actual crime scene. So his parousal of the blog ended quickly, and he laid flat on his back, staring hard at the ceiling. He was tempted to smoke, but thanks to John, no one would sell him any within a certain radius, and he was much too complacent at the moment to go find a complying vendor.

So he lay there in absolute silence for close to thirty minutes until he heard a soft knock on his door. Immediately frustrated, he shouted, "Mrs. Hudson, what do you want?"

"Your new girlfriend is here to see you. I couldn't let her stand outside in the rain to wait for you to come out. She'd catch cold."

_Girlfriend?_ he wondered, immediately getting to his feet. The idea that some woman would fabricate such a relationship with _him_ of all people was enough to get his interest remotely piqued in her case.

He ripped open the door, and Mrs. Hudson continued, "I didn't know you were into that sort of thing, dating y'know."

He briefly looked over the older woman with slight annoyance, completely disregarding the younger woman claiming to be his girlfriend. "Run along now, Mrs. Hudson. Thank you for your assistance." He allowed the girl passage into his flat and attempted to close the door, but his landlady continued, "I could make a cuppa for you two and make something nice and quick for dinner. A pleasant girl like that deserves it,"she whispered.

"That _would_ be nice, but I already have something planned for the evening that doesn't involve you. Now good night, Mrs. Hudson," he said in clipped syllables before promptly shutting the door. Sighing briefly, he sat in his red armchair across from his 'girlfriend', scrutinizing her like he did every potential client.

Very clean. Simple tastes, yet into contemporary trends. Earth-conscious. Meticulous hygiene. Low stress living and working environment. Single, two dogs. Prefers limited human contact. Extremely intelligent, yet not a shove.

And clearly not English. American.

"You're fortunate Mrs. Hudson wishes to do all she can to ensure that I become a married man soon, or we wouldn't be having this conversation. Please do be quick about telling your story; I have much to do," he stated, staring coolly into her dark eyes.

"Well, Mr. Holmes, I'm looking for someone. He went missing two weeks ago in London. He was here on vacation from San Francisco." Her accent only further proved what he had deduced from her style of clothing alone. "I've tried calling him, texting him, but he hasn't responded. So I decided to come out here myself and look for him."

"And how would you know to come to me? Scotland Yard would've been a logical choice. And that's where I recommend you start. Sorry, but this case has quickly lost my interest. Off you go."

The young woman got to her feet, shaking her head of dark curls softly. "I've read your blog, all of your past cases you solved with Dr. Watson. I'm not a diehard fan, but I figured you'd be of more efficient help than the police. However, I can clearly see resolving lover's quarrels and finding lost pets take precedent over kidnapping. I'll let you get back to doing nothing, Mr. Holmes. Your couch has a body indentation that wouldn't be there if you _actually_ were busy with another case." He looked up at her questioningly, and she gave him a smug grin. "Have a lovely day," she said politely, and went out the door.

.

"Solved any cases lately?" John asked. It had been a few weeks since they last spoke. Mary was at home with Moira, safe and sound.

"Mm, nope. Nothing good has come my way," Sherlock dismissed, continuing to examine the fabrige egg before him. "However, a member of Parliament is looking for her missing twin daughters. It appears they went out to the movies one night, and haven't returned. Rather than making it a national spectacle, she's turned to me for help."

"Any leads yet?" John asked, turning a page of the newspaper.

"Their private security. He's been missing for three days. No one's seen him since the incident." Sherlock didn't seem to be inclined to explain the case further, so John didn't attempt to force it out of him.

"Well, Mrs. Hudson is under the belief that you have a girlfriend, " he chuckled. "This isn't like Janine, is it? If it's even true."

"No, I don't have a girlfriend. I don't have the emotional vulnerability to have one, nor the patience for the unpredictability in her moods. It was a ruse that a potential client used to get into my flat."

"Really? It must've been something more important than finding a lost dog or something."

"It was a kidnapping. An American. I told her to go to the Yard, waste her time there than waste mine here."

"Sherlock, you know you've been starving for a case and this was your chance. Is it because she's American, or is it something else?"

"Oh heavens, this isn't an issue of patriotism. I simply have more important things to do. "

"Right, like staring at fancy, decorated eggs all day. She's probably given up and gone home by now. You could've helped her."

"John, whatever assistance I could've provided is no longer any use, if that is the case, so please do drop this."

"Nope. We're going to see Lestrade right now and see if she actually went to the police for help. She could've very well went looking for him on her own, and we both know how bloody well that could turn out. "

Sherlock knew he couldn't convince his friend otherwise at this point, so he set the egg down and went for his coat.

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"Yeah, an American woman came in here a couple of weeks ago to file a missing persons report. They referred her directly to me because she dropped Sherlock's name in conversation. How does she know you?" Lestrade asked, one brow raised in curiosity.

"If you're thinking what I _think_ you're thinking, then no. She read my blog and came to see me for help."

"And she told me you refused to help her. That's not like you to turn down a possible kidnapping case, Sherlock. Is it because you think she's pretty?" he teased with a grin.

"Physical aesthetics don't hinder my ability to solve a case, if that's what you're implying. She's very intelligent, but she's also very good at hiding information. However, not good enough to hide it from me. There's something she's not telling us."

"Which is?" Lestrade asked.

"I must have another conversation with her to know for certain, but he's most definitely an intimate acquaintance of hers."

"You mean, like a boyfriend, or husband?" John asked.

"No. Her ring finger is devoid of a wedding band, and her disposition denotes satisfaction in solitary life. Whoever he is, he's a blood relative, likely a brother or cousin." He turned to the detective, "When was the last time she came to you for help?"

"About a week ago. She said she had a few leads. One led her to a hotel in Cardiff, and another to a tavern in Brighton. Whoever this guy is, he sure does move around a lot. There's no set pattern."

"That is a clue in itself. He was here, looking for someone as she is looking for him. If this is allowed to continue, she will end up missing, as well. Good day, Lestrade."

Sherlock quickly got to his feet and started towards the door with John in tow, "Wait, so we're going to go find her? We don't have a clue as to where she is."

"Oh, she'll turn up in a commonly visited place eventually. All we have to do is wait," he assured his friend. As soon as he opened the door to the street, someone ran face first into his chest, causing a light huff to escape his mouth.

The person took a step back, and gave him that same smug grin that she did just before she left his flat nearly a month ago. "We meet again, Sherlock Holmes."

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**Okay, end of chapter! I don't know if I'll continue this right away, but I wanted to get this out before I forgot exactly how I wanted the pilot to begin. For those of you who are familiar with my other works, I will finish Shadows and my other incomplete stories. I won't abandon them; I just can't seem to find the time to write. It was easy when I was in school, all I had to do was homework and I was free for the rest of the day. It's not that simple as an adult. *frown***

**Season 3 was very good, so I felt after that finale, that there'd be some sort of 'filler case' to occupy Sherlock's time as he tries to figure out if *SPOILER* Moriarty is still alive or if it's a ruse. So when he mentioned that he doesn't have any interesting cases, it's because Moriarty hasn't made another 'appearance' in several months, so it's a waiting game for now. Not to worry, this story won't be overly romantic or fluffy. Sherlock will stay Sherlock, as long as my OC plays by his rules.**

**Please do review, let me know if Sherlock, John, Mrs. Hudson, and Lestrade are in character so far. We will find out my OCs name in the next chapter, and a little bit more about where she's from and whatnot.**

**Toodles!**


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